


take one last good look at the dark

by Farandole



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Diego also needs a hug, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Heart-to-Heart, Lila needs a hug, Post-Season/Series 02, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, The Handler's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:13:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26636395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farandole/pseuds/Farandole
Summary: He dreams of her nearly every night.Sometimes they're back in Elliot's bed, entwined beneath the sheets, whispering sweet nothings to one another.Sometimes she kills him after decimating his whole family, while telling him just how well she fooled him.But Diego always wakes up missing her.-Post season 2. If Diego thinks adapting to this new and strange reality is difficult, then that's nothing compared to envisioning a life without Lila.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves & Eudora Patch, Diego Hargreeves & Lila Pitts, Diego Hargreeves/Lila Pitts, The Hargreeves Family
Comments: 21
Kudos: 64





	take one last good look at the dark

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and thanks for clicking on this fic!  
> This is my first time writing in about ten years, and also my first time posting on AO3, so it's a bit daunting.
> 
> But Diego and Lila's insane chemistry and my imperious need for season 3 were too strong to ignore.  
> I fell head over heels for these two broken individuals and how much they love one another.
> 
> Rated M for language and situations, but nothing explicit.  
> Full disclaimer: English isn't my first language, so there might be some tiny mistakes here and there (I hope not too many).
> 
> Major thanks to my forever partner in crime, Dou, for beta-ing this. You rock.
> 
> Title is from the song “Run For Me” by SebastiAn.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“Put the briefcase down, Diego.”

“But I need it!”

“This is our only possible escape solution, if things go to shit again. It needs to remain safe and accessible at all times. Besides, you’re not going to find her with it.”

“How - “

“Of course you’d go look for her. But Lila’s been trained by the Commission all her life. If she doesn’t want to be found, trust me, you can waste your entire life looking through all eras and places and never finding her.”

“Listen, Five, I know you’ve never experienced real love, alright, but I need to find Lila. Not just for me, but because her entire life got blown into pieces. I don’t care what you may think of her - all of you! - I don’t want her to go through that alone. She’s one of us! We need to be there for her.”

“So this has nothing to do with how you feel then?”

“Of course it does. I love her. You all know that; I’ve heard you talk about it. By the way, next time make sure I’m really asleep before discussing my love life so loudly, alright.”

“I don’t question your motives at all, Diego. I’m just saying, your chances of encountering her are infinitesimally low. If Lila wants to see you again, she’ll come to you. It’s the only way."

“But I… I miss her. And I worry about her current state of mind.”

“I know you do. But don’t you think we have bigger fish to fry at the moment?!”

*******

Slowly but surely, the Hargreeves start coming to terms with the last situation they created, and the new normal that followed.

They’d finally made it back to 2019 after struggling for so long, just to find out that their dear old dad, horrified by their encounter in the 1960s, had made sure to never adopt them, therefore changing the timeline entirely. After dealing with not one but two apocalypses, finding out that their actual selves didn’t exist had to be the cherry on the doomsday cake.

They had commonly decided not to go looking for their current counterparts in this timeline, born still on the same day yet having never been adopted by Reginald Hargreeves, and thus leading very different lives.

Maybe their other selves had grown up in loving families, becoming well-adjusted adults with fulfilling, normal, boring existences. 

Maybe their powers had never manifested. 

One could hope.

Instead, thrown out unceremoniously of the only home they had ever known, the siblings had to quickly find a place to live. The small ancient house on the outskirts of town that Allison reluctantly rumoured theirs was a far cry from the Hargreeves mansion they grew up in, but it was enough to house them all together while they figured out their next move.

The one condition, amidst their frantic search for a place to rest and lay low, was a bedroom for each one of them. While the siblings might have been happy to be finally reunited, and probably on better terms with one another that they had ever been, they still wanted their own quiet place to unwind and reflect upon their new situation.

And experience their own versions of a mental breakdown.

Allison had taken it the worst. In this reality, she had never met Patrick, and Claire had never been born. Losing her husband in the 1960s and then her daughter to this new reality had really taken a toll on her state of mind, leaving their usually cheerful and caring sister an apathetic shadow of herself, lying in bed without moving for days on end. With some coaxing from Klaus, Vanya and Luther, she was only now starting to become more and more involved with their frequent family meetings, motivated once again by the thought of one day reuniting with her daughter's sweet smile and loving arms.

They'd had to watch over Klaus round the clock to make sure he stayed sober and kept his vow. Early on in their new house, they had found him one morning nearly passed out in the cold light of the day, surrounded by empty bottles. He had broken down and finally recounted to his brothers and sisters the past seventeen years with Ben. They'd been angry at first, so angry that he withheld Ben's presence from them, selfishly keeping him to himself. But while they each had years to mourn and grieve for their brother - Five perhaps even more so - Klaus had always known he could count on Ben's constant level-headed presence, frequent quips and his ability to get him out of tricky situations more than once. Watching his siblings evolve around him day to day but feeling a massive hole where their sixth one used to be, Klaus had never felt so alone, and never longed more for the sweet relief of alcohol or narcotics.

And then not-Ben from the Sparrow dickheads or whatever had been the most surprising and cruel twist of this reality. Of course their father hadn't known Ben was originally a part of the messed-up band of misfits he had encountered in Dallas, harping on about being his children from the future. Even more worrying, this version of Ben seemed to have nothing in common with theirs : a harsh, arrogant and heartless leader with a stupid haircut and an even worse moustache, number one to the seven gifted members of the Sparrow Academy, entirely too focused on the success of their missions and on pleasing their father.

Dear old Reggie had met them, and the disasters they all turned out to be; and he'd decided to do everything in his power to ensure this Umbrella Academy never came to exist.

Maybe not-Ben even had a different power in this timeline; they hadn't stayed long enough to find out.

Luther, surprisingly, seemed to be adjusting best to their new life. Stepping back from being number one and considering himself "leader" of their family had been good to him, and even better for his relationships with his siblings. He was constantly tending to Allison, making sure Klaus didn't sneak a drink behind their back, supporting Vanya in reconnecting with her violin, keeping a never-ending supply of caffeine for Five and fighting much less frequently with Diego, at least not seriously. The bathroom turnover, however, remained a daily issue.

For Luther, taking care of his brothers and sisters felt like a way to atone for the years of mistreatment and this misguided feeling of superiority he had inflicted upon them. He had experienced living without them - nearly a decade evolving around their memories in the Hargreeves mansion with only Dad, Grace and Pogo at his side; and then later, entirely alone on the desolate moon, reclusive and longing for better days.

He never wanted to be apart from his family again.

Instead, he'd developed a fondness for cooking. His own body required huge portions, and so he'd adapted to making even bigger quantities to keep his family fed and happy, steadily coming up with new recipes, experimenting with baking and getting his siblings to begrudgingly try it out.

One morning he'd found a garish yellow apron with a monkey fitted with a chef outfit on it, courtesy of Klaus. Luther had pretended to be mad, but had secretly been pleased and even touched by the gesture.

He couldn't remember a time where he had ever felt so useful, and so appreciated by his siblings. He hoped things remained this way.

After 45 years of struggle and fighting to remain alive, Five felt like he had never had so much… free time. Not being high on adrenaline, waiting for the next threat, the next attack, the next mission - hell, the next apocalypse - made him feel unbalanced. Sure, their current situation of "non-existence" was a hard pill to swallow after everything he went through to bring them back to 2019, all together and mostly unscathed. And of course their new goal was to come back to their own timeline, where Claire was alive and Dad was not, where they could just go _home_ to their mansion and back to their lives. But there was no rush, no looming threat: for once, they could take their time planning - imagining every eventuality, every mistake they could make, anticipating any pebble that might lodge itself in the inner workings of their grand plan. 

And take their time to rest.

For his siblings, their time in the 1960s ranged from several years to several months. For him, only a week had passed between the 2019 apocalypse and the 1963 one, with an added body switching unpleasant experience kickstarting everything. And before that, he’d endured decades living alone in the rubble of their planet destroyed, with only Delores as company, followed by years as a Commission assassin, going from mission to mission, ruthlessly murdering hundreds of people and biding his time in secret to the moment where he could finally get back to his family. 

Since his first arrival in 2019, he'd been hunted, shot at, beat up, strangled, buried under a falling roof and even had a saucepan thrown at his head - _thanks, Lila_ \- solely running on shitty caffeine, unbridled rage and the overwhelming urge to protect his dumbass brothers and sisters from everything, and the world from them. 

Life had felt like a never-ending battle since the moment he left the breakfast table to pursue his time travel abilities. 

_Should have listened to Dad, for once._

As such, this amount of resting and quiet felt unnatural to Five. He could feel the tendrils of his power coursing through his veins, thrumming through his once-again youthful body, ready to move through space, through time, to act and attack: plainly missing the thrill of action.

And then he recalled being faced with the dead bodies of his siblings, not once, but three times. If seeing them dead amongst the debris of the first apocalypse, still recognizable despite being much older than what he remembered, had been a difficult moment; tougher still a second time when landing in 1963 among the fight and being cornered, seeing them surrounded by the flames at the last second before vanishing thanks to Hazel; then the hail of bullets and their bodies slowly falling, all of them, one after the other, in the barn had been devastating. If The Handler had aimed better at him, all the Hargreeves would still be lying cold on the ground, bleeding out on the hay.

Bless her then for not shooting him straight through the head or the heart; bless Dad, even in his own cold and calculating way, for suggesting he only rewind time seconds instead of years. Without them they wouldn't be here, in this miserable timeline, erased from existence but still alive, and most importantly still together.

There would come a day, maybe, where he would tell them what actually happened on that fateful moment, what he'd seen and how close they came to dying permanently. But he was eager to forget their empty eyes and bodies cribbled with bullets - therefore not anytime soon.

So Five smiled, took the time to relax, get some sleep, spend some time finally getting to know his grown-up siblings, trying not to be a sarcastic asshole to them and eating Luther's weird savoury muffins.

Between being tortured, getting her memories back, fighting yet another potential apocalypse and risking their lives to save Sissy and Harlan, and then having to say goodbye to them - thus breaking her heart in thousands of pieces in the process, Vanya was exhausted beyond belief. She, unlike her siblings, wasn't unhappy about being far away from the Hargreeves mansion reminding her exactly how terrible her childhood had been. She was struggling enough as it was to try to reconcile their cruel past behaviours that she finally remembered, with the versions living with her in this new reality.

She knew they had and were still making efforts, by being nice to her every day and apologising to her for how they treated her so disdainfully for years. In the past, she had been so used to being set apart and never included in anything, making her feel weak and useless. Her absolute rage causing the first apocalypse hadn't risen on its own after all.

On a particularly emotional night talking with Luther about their early years around a bottle of vodka that they had managed to keep away from Klaus, he had burst into tears at evoking everything he put her through, including deceiving her and locking her up in that dreadful cage. He’d confessed about regretting it instantly and never feeling more like their father, blindingly believing it was the only way to stop the end of the world.

She had awkwardly patted his large shoulder and given him a tissue. Everything wasn't forgotten - how could she forgive decades of abuse after one single conversation - but Vanya appreciated a lot more this version of her big brother.

Therefore, her next decision shouldn't have come as a shock to her siblings. She had decided to also get the umbrella tattooed on her wrist, the one she had drawn repeatedly and longed for as a child.

They'd all gathered around her on the tattoo parlour seat, cracking jokes about the pain she was about to feel and how long she would last before crying. And then Diego had fainted upon seeing the needle.

To Vanya, this permanent mark on her body was not dedicated to their harsh upbringing or their father's insane superhero program. This was a way for her to permanently establish, in ink and in her flesh, how she finally truly belonged with her brothers and sisters. How much, despite everything, she loved her family.

The following day, with some money scraped from all the places she could think of, she bought herself a violin.

Diego had lived alone since the moment he left the Hargreeves mansion as a teenager, in a flurry of screaming and hatred spit in their father's cold and disappointed face, vowing to himself that he would never again have anything to do with the people he had been forced to grow up with. More than a decade later and yet there he was, sharing once again a living space with his brothers and sisters, hearing them puttering around the house at all hours of the day and night, talking, cooking, showering, arguing, sometimes screaming too. Surprisingly, he found that he didn't miss the silence that his old room in the back of the boxing gym provided.

Reginald, or at least their own version, got his wish in the end. In dying, he succeeded in bringing back the Academy together, sharing an even deeper bond than before.

Sure, Diego still wanted to murder his siblings more often than not. But he'd also come to realize he would die and kill for them without a second thought. 

He missed Mom though.

Some evenings, sitting at the wobbly dinner table sharpening his knives in their living room slash kitchen, he entertained the idea of infiltrating the mansion and simply stealing her away. He'd seen her on the day they crashed in this new timeline, all smiles and obedience to their father, yet love and affection visibly pouring out of her circuitry. 

Diego had seen her die twice - the first time by his hand even. Ripping apart her wires and making her despondent - Grace, his _mother_ , the only living being who had cared for him during his childhood, who cooked and cleaned and healed all the physical and emotional wounds, who tirelessly encouraged him through his stutter - had been without a doubt the most difficult decision he had ever had to take. And now, knowing she was alive and _there_ , within reach, still caring for their psychopathic father and his gaggle of replacement children, made him just want to run to his old house and take her away. 

Maybe he could talk Five into agreeing and helping with his project.

Maybe spending so much time between elaborating his plan for stealing Mom and the daily “let’s go home” meetings with his siblings would make him stop thinking about Lila.

*******

_"Five was right, you know."_

_She's sitting on top of him, dark eyes sparkling with a hint of crazy, surrounded by her halo of black hair. Her long fingers are playing with one of his knives, a particular favourite double-edged blade._

_He's pinned under her - somehow, someway, she's got him completely paralyzed. He can feel the drops of sweat beading around his hairline._

_"Did you really think I actually liked you? Had feelings for you? Was I this convincing?"_

_Her little giggle makes her body shake, and his along too._

_"Get a good look at your stupid brothers and sisters, Diego. I'm gonna enjoy killing you like I killed them."_

_The tangy and metallic smell of blood is overwhelming. He can sense them around, bodies lying on the barn floor, unmoving. Dead._

_"You're no one, number two. Never the leader, always the runner-up. Always the failure."_

_She softly runs the knife along his cheek, barely scratching his skin._

_"Your father knew this. A stuttering mess, with a useless power, too soft-hearted and dumb to ever become a hero, desperately trying to prove himself. I mean, the others can - could - warp reality, provoke the apocalypse, demolish a house, bend time and space or even raise the dead - but you! Curving knives, really! Barely even useful in a fight."_

_He can feel the blade getting lower, the pressure getting stronger. He wishes he could move his lips to tell her to stop._

_"Why would I ever fall in love with a weak and pathetic excuse of a wannabe-vigilante such as yourself?! You were a ploy to get closer to your shithead brother, Diego! Get this into your head!"_

_The blade plunges above his heart._

*******

He wakes up in a sweat, disoriented, feeling like a heavy weight is sitting on his chest.

*******

He dreams of her nearly every night. Sometimes they're back in Elliot's bed, entwined beneath the sheets, whispering sweet nothings to one another.

Sometimes she kills him after decimating his whole family, while telling him just how well she fooled him.

But Diego always wakes up missing her.

Days pass, but the desire to see her doesn't relent. It feels like an ache, slowly growing, spreading from his heart to his mind, soon engulfing his entire body, occupying his every thought.

He longs to reunite with her, but doesn't even know what he would say. 

_Is he angry?_

Feeling betrayed, played by the woman he was starting to develop feelings for, drugged and kidnapped against his will, enrolled as a minion for the Handler and her bloodthirsty plan to run the Commission at all costs.

(It didn't last long anyway. He was never good at following orders.)

_Is he sympathetic?_

Knowing exactly how she must feel, after an entire life of bullshit manipulation, as he had put it, being molded as a weapon by a cruel adoptive parent, growing up coerced and controlled, desperate for a sign of care and affection, always looking for said parent's approval.

Their upbringing and experiences feel so similar. Their origin too, which he still has a hard time wrapping his head around. But at least, he always had his brothers and sisters around, living through the same hardships, available to commiserate together.

Lila had no one else.

_Is he lovelorn?_

An absolute fool falling for the first intriguing girl to show interest in him, looking for a sliver of companionship in a brutal environment that left him genuinely questioning his sanity. A few sarcastic quips and some whispers of rebellion wrapped in a dazzling smile and an enchanting accent, and he was done for.

The facts remain.

She had saved his life - several times - going above and beyond to ensure his wellbeing, if only with questionable methods. Bonding over shared trauma, spending arguably the most passionate night of his life in her arms, dancing together so closely at the Consulate...

_Was it all a lie?_

The question keeps looping endlessly in Diego's mind. He thought he could detect some vulnerability and truth to several of their moments, especially during their final encounter. If her mother and then the Swede hadn't showed up when they did, he's sure he would have convinced her to join them. 

Be a part of their family.

(But obviously not as his sister).

Instead, she had left in a split second, grabbing the suitcase and leaving as quickly and as far as possible.

Still, he didn't regret throwing himself at Luther to help her escape - and he would do it again.

_Is she okay? Is she safe?_

Within a matter of minutes, Lila had discovered that everything she thought she knew about her family, her childhood and her goal in life was a carefully crafted lie. And the person who was supposed to love her and put her above anything else saw her as nothing more than a weapon. Not as her daughter. If she wasn't dutiful and ready to blindly obey at any moment, then she wasn't worth anything to her own mother.

Diego understands the overwhelming urge to escape and lick your wounds in private after this shitshow - hell, probably better than anyone else. 

But he also knows that Lila needs someone who cares about her in this exact moment, a comforting presence to reassure her and stop her falling into an endless pit of depression and self-loathing.

He's been there before, after all.

Eudora had helped some, trying to comfort her new boyfriend after he cut ties permanently with his family while trying to survive the police academy. But he was a stubborn ass who refused to share his feelings and open up, refused to change his ways and adopt another approach to justice, and in the end, it had led to their relationship's downfall.

 _And her death_ , he thinks bitterly.

Eudora is still alive in this reality. Having never met Diego Hargreeves, this version of Patch is thriving in her job as a detective, putting criminals behind bars while dutifully following the law.

She was always too good for him.

But he and Lila are two sides of the same coin: superpowered individuals with a fucked-up upbringing as nothing more than lethal _tools_ to tyrannical parents, now maladjusted adults struggling to cope without a strict environment and using sarcasm as a defence mechanism. Born from the same phenomenon, too.

He's just a bit further than her in his journey of processing, acceptance and growth. And he has his siblings by his side to help along and remind him that he’s valued, and loved.

And that's exactly why he needs to find her, and help her out, and convince her to stay. 

(With him.)

But the days pass, and his hopes of finding her - or better, her seeking him out - gradually dwindle with each new morning in this warped existence.

Would she even find this alternate timeline? Or have they fucked with time so completely that this is the only reality that the world will ever know, the sole 2019 always happening?

Diego prefers to leave this science fiction pondering shit to Five. But if it's indeed the only timeline, then surely she would find them - _him_ \- quite easily?

The alternative means that Lila doesn't want to be found. Doesn't want to join him. Doesn't miss him.

So he takes it as a sign that they probably won't ever meet again, and that he really should move on with his new life.

 _Hey, maybe you should introduce yourself to your police friend in this world_ , his siblings say after yet another day of quiet mopping and knife sharpening.

The thought is nice, but he'd rather leave this Eudora alone, safe and happy. And alive.

Somewhere along the way, between their final breakup and her death, he made his peace with it.

Unlike with Lila, judging from the way he keeps seeing her everywhere. Or at least thinking he does.

He stops trying to chase after these illusions when yet another brown-skinned, dark-haired woman slaps him vigorously as he grabs her arm, convinced he finally caught Lila spying on him.

 _Well deserved_ , he hears her say mockingly.

_You're a fool, Diego. I'm not coming back to you._

The truth is staring him in the face. It is now August 2019 - five months have gone by since their last meeting in 1963 - and she simply hasn't showed up.

He needs to accept she's never returning. And that the childish bracelet he built 56 years ago - almost light years away - that she had kept until he got it back, and now wears every day, is the only tangible memory he will ever have of his time with Lila.

Somehow, this is more difficult to accept than this unfamiliar new reality where they don't belong.

And then everything changes.

*******

_Flesh against flesh. Half whispered moans in the dark, moonlight filtering through the window._

_Her silky-smooth skin burning against his, softer even than the sheets surrounding them._

_Her comfortable weight on top of him._

_Slow, assured movements in unison._

_An evidence._

_Relishing the control to her, appreciating feeling safe and cared for while letting her take the lead._

_The twinkle in her eyes telling him exactly how much she's enjoying this._

_Their fingers entwined above his head, her lips fluttering against his throat, feeling her curves pressed against his, the heat rising._

_Every caress resonating within his entire body, leaving him breathless._

_The desire consuming him, her presence too overwhelming, intoxicating._

_Body and soul, he surrenders to her, willingly, trustingly, over and over again._

_*******_

This time, he needs a cold shower.

*******

The days start to look like an endlessly repeating cycle, Groundhog Day style.

Wake up. Blearily stumble in the kitchen to grab one of the latest baking monstrosity Luther is subjecting them to and try to swallow as quickly as possible to avoid puking. Shower while one of his siblings is banging on the door telling him to hurry up. Head to the boxing ring to spend several hours teaching some knucklehead kids how to throw a punch, and then beat the shit out of a punching bag to release some tension. Pick up Vanya from her violin lessons. Head home to yet another "family meeting" to figure out how to reset the timeline right while trying not to murder Five. Drag Allison outside for some fresh air and to get takeout. Munch on pizza watching any weird movie Klaus has deemed appropriate for the evening viewing. Head upstairs back to his room. Toss and turn in bed trying not to think of Lila. Finally fall asleep.

Spend the night dreaming of her despite hoping not to, and then wake up feeling like shit.

Rinse and repeat.

The august heat is unbearable, muggy and suffocating, particularly in his room right below the roof. He picked it so he could easily slip out of the house through the window unnoticed by his siblings, should he need a quick escape someday. 

He loves them, but there are still things he'd like to keep to himself.

The days are long, but he's glad he's back in the boxing ring. Safety in familiarity, after all. Besides, his family needs to spare all the money they can get, as they have next to none these days.

Allison refused to rumour them billionaires, to Klaus’ utter disappointment. 

That's why Vanya is back to teaching the violin, Luther has taken a part-time job cooking in a diner, Allison sometimes babysits for rich families and Diego goes back to teaching obnoxious kids and sometimes adults how to fight. Klaus keeps telling them he’s making an effort and spending time looking for a job; but the siblings know this is a battle long lost anyway. And they don’t even dare asking Five what he’s up to when they’re at work.

Diego tries to keep his days busy so he has a better chance of quickly falling asleep at night.

It doesn't always succeed.

Some nights, he wishes he could trade his power for another one allowing him to switch off his brain. No thoughts, just blissful nothingness. 

_What is she doing right now?_

_Is she thinking of me like I’m thinking of her?_

Probably not.

Sleep finally comes in the early morning, once he’s done chucking every knife he owns at the ceiling.

*******

She’s here. Big eyes, long-ish hair - longer than he remembers - without the dark smoky eyeshadow he’s familiar with, looking far more relaxed than he’s ever seen her. And sitting on his rickety wooden chair, feet propped up on the desk.

“Morning, knife boy,” she drawls.

He’s dreaming of her. Again. Except this time, it feels different - more vivid than usual.

Blearily, he turns on the other side of the bed, facing away, and decides to get a couple more minutes of sleep.

And then promptly gets hit by a perfect shot right in the head with a pen.

“Jesus, what the fuck!”

The sharp tones he’s missed so much answer him.

“What, you can’t even be bothered to say hello? After I’ve come all this way?”

The sudden shock of realization slaps him awake.

She’s actually here. He’s not dreaming.

He rises from the bed so quickly he nearly gets whiplash. She snorts, and then lowers her legs back to the floor.

Between his sleepy state and the surprise of seeing her in the flesh, his voice sounds unsure. “Lila? W-what are you doing h-here?”

“Well, I was on my way to the Caribbean and I thought, gosh, wouldn’t it be nicer to actually go disturb Diego’s perfect family life?”

“Cut the crap, Lila.”

She stands up, eyes downcast, seemingly losing her bravado. He can't help but notice the lack of her usual black clothing - instead, she's dressed comfortably in jeans and an oversized light blue sweater. The trademark red Doc Martens remain, however.

“What if I told you I wanted to see you?”

“I’d say it’s been months. Why now?” Diego asks.

“It’s actually been longer for me. Much longer.”

"How long?"

"Well, about a year I'd say, give or take. Since the barn. Since my mother died."

A beat, then.

"Since I last saw you."

The surprises keep coming, he thinks bitterly. Unconsciously, his steps take him closer to her while he crosses his arms over his sleeping shirt.

"Alright, so it's been a year. Did you go back to the Commission, then? Tell me, have you kidnapped any other wide-eyed moron stupid enough to trust you lately? And then abandon them entirely?" 

His tone gets progressively angrier. Still, she doesn't rise to the bait.

"I went back in the past actually. To meet my real parents, see how it all unfolded."

Lila's answer takes him aback, melting away his anger. 

"Did you… change history?" He softly asks. "Make it so they never died?"

She takes a deep breath and nervously scratches the floor with her shoe.

"I thought about it, obviously. But… it’s a long story. I didn't go back to them straight after leaving the barn, though. After I grabbed the briefcase, I went back to a secluded place I knew in the English countryside, just to get some time to process everything and rage out on my own. I desperately needed to be alone." 

Wordlessly, he invites her to sit next to him on his bed, as a peace offering. Lila gingerly sits straight up on the other extremity of the mattress, far enough so they don't risk brushing against each other unconsciously. Her discomfort bleeds through the rigidity of her posture.

"And it was a lot. My entire life up to this point had been a lie, a masterful tapestry woven by my mother - or should I say kidnapper. She had my own parents _murdered_ , Diego, just so she could have a superpowered bodyguard with undying loyalty at her side. _It's fucked up!_ "

He so badly wants to take her hand in his - give her comfort through touch and the reassurance that he's there for her. But the way she's sat so far from him makes him reconsider.

"I've sort of forgiven your shithead brother, though. It took me a while, but I've come to understand that he was just a hired gun. My mother was behind it all. Five may be an arrogant prick, but he's not entirely to blame for orphaning me." she quips, some fervour back in her voice.

Diego lets out a laugh "Five will be delighted to know you've forgiven him. Bet you’re gonna become the best of friends."

Their gazes cross, still smiling at one another.

She clears her throat and continues “I basically lived in silence for a couple weeks, entirely alone between the four walls of an abandoned house by the sea. No one else but me and facing my thoughts… There was nowhere else to escape. I had no other choice but to deal with my childhood, my birth parents, my mother’s betrayal, figuring out I was just like you and your siblings…” She pauses. “That was a big revelation by the way!”

Diego chuckles “If you thought this was big for you, just imagine for the seven of us - having grown up thinking we were the only ones! But you and I are _not_ siblings alright!” He finishes lamely.

Her laugh resonates “Oh you and I are _definitely_ not related. Just… people born on the same day, who happen to have powers. I’m sure there’s a lot more of us somewhere. Technically, you’re not biologically related to your siblings either - growing up as such made you a family.”

She hesitates.

‘I envy you all, you know. For the longest time it was just my mother and I, and training, and the Commission, and then the missions. At least you have each other. It’s pretty obvious how much your brothers and sisters all care for you and for one another. It’s touching, even.”

“Yeah, well it took us a while to get there, don’t be fooled,” Diego answers with a bashful grin. “We hated each other and fell out of touch for more than a decade. Believe it or not, it’s the apocalypse that reunited us. And our father’s funeral too. That’s the only thing I will ever thank him for.”

Lila gives him a gentle smile and carries on “Seeing you all together made me long for my own family. So after a bit of planning and going back and forth with myself, I grabbed the briefcase and landed in east London … in late October 1989.”

Nervously, she picks at a lock of her own hair and twists it around her finger.

“I watched from afar as Ronnie and Anita Gill had to deal with a surprise baby throwing a big wrench in their plan to open up their dream flower shop, while they were young and didn’t have a lot of money. And yet they adored her from her first breath. Me. My parents loved me more than anything in the world and they were taken from me, and that is _fucking unfair_.”

Her eyes start to shine with unshed tears. 

Fuck it - he grabs her hand and tangles their fingers, squeezing comfortingly. She squeezes back.

“And so I stayed, and I watched. The grand life of Lila Gill… Relived my first four years of living, doing little time jumps here and there, observing myself grow up. On a Tuesday morning of 1991, I mustered enough courage to drop by and buy flowers from their shop. I asked for a bouquet of lilacs.”

Her voice breaks.

“My dad was upstairs taking care of me. At the till, my mother remarked that her little baby daughter was called Lila, and wasn’t life funny that I was coming in looking for some. She wished me a lovely day with my flowers. She was so kind. I cried for days after that.”

She reaches into the pocket of her jeans and pulls out a faded piece newspaper. Carefully unfolding it, she picks up a dried purple bloom.

“I’ve kept it ever since. A physical memory of my parents, reminding me that I was loved once. And of where I come from.” Lila whispers as she puts the piece of newspaper back in its place.

Taking his cue from her, Diego answers in a soft voice “Were you there when they died?”

“When they were brutally murdered by your brother and my mother, you mean?” She sarcastically asks. And then her anger deflates. 

“I wanted to at first - even entertained the insane idea of going back and saving them, and mini-me, and taking them far away from this shitty fate just so I could grow up with them. But I couldn’t, could I? The Commission drills into us from the very first day that _the timeline must be protected at all costs_ , and we can only intervene to ensure it remains the same. So I had to let things happen the way they always have.”

“I mean, you’re experiencing first-hand what happens when you mess with the past right now, correct? Look at you all, in an alternate reality!” She deadpans, raising an eyebrow. “I had such a hard time finding you in this mess. Encountered a couple versions of your other selves on the way.”

Lila eyes him up from head to toe and smirks. “Don’t worry, you remain hot in every universe. Bleached blonde suits you, by the way.”

Diego can’t help but laugh. He never knows what’s going to come out of her mouth. “I’ll keep it in mind for the next time Klaus wants to give me a makeover.” 

She takes a leap, and raises her other hand to caress his shorter hair, right above his scar. “I liked you with the shaggy looks, but this is nice too. Kinda miss it, though.”

Her touch makes him shiver - it’s been so long, he yearns for more.

“I don’t. The orderlies at the asylum wouldn’t let me cut it. Said I couldn’t be trusted near any kind of blade.”

“And they weren’t wrong, were they, knife boy?” She says with a smile as she lowers her hand back again.

He misses it instantly. 

He’s always been touch-starved, growing up only with mom’s robotic affection - but the way Lila’s caresses make him feel is indescribable. Slowly, he strokes his thumb in between her fingers, relishing their last point of contact.

Despite everything, he’s so happy she’s here.

“And then what? After your parents?”

“Well, there I was, still heartbroken, but with a way out to any place in time and on the planet that ever existed. So I did what anyone would do: I went to the beach. Spent a few weeks around the French Riviera in the 1980s, enjoying the sun and the food and the bliss of having nothing to do, no one to see. No one looking for me. I had no expectations; I didn't have to deal with my past either. And then I got a bit tired of the French - I mean, incredible food but such arrogance!” she snarks.

“Nothing was stopping me, I could go anywhere, anytime. So I travelled - a lot. Mostly to sunny places: Bali, Tuscany, Peru. Managed to find my grandparents in Chennai in the 1940s, retraced my family history from afar. My parents were both born in India and met there - and then they moved very young to London to start a new life. I have so many aunts and uncles, and nieces and nephews - all those people I will never properly know…” she trails off, looking in the distance.

“But at least they’re happy- _ish_. Leading normal, average lives, far away from the madness. I hope it remains that way.”

Her gaze lowers, memories slowly coming back to her. To happier days. Diego doesn’t like seeing her so crestfallen, and opts for changing her mind.

“Hey, you must be hungry or at least thirsty, no? How about we get down to the kitchen and grab something? If we're sneaky we might not encounter Five or Klaus, the others are at work.”

She gives him a sad smile. "Thanks for the hospitality but I'm not sure I'm willing to risk bumping into Five. Besides, he'd probably slit my throat within two seconds. And the only time I met Klaus I was trying to kill you all. Not the greatest first impression, don't you think?"

Diego stands up anyway and heads towards the door.

"Alright, I'll go down and make some breakfast to bring it back here, how about that."

He pauses, one hand on the door handle.

"And please don't disappear again in the meantime."

Lila nods wordlessly, guilt etched all over her features.

Slowly and without making any noise, Diego heads to the kitchen.

*******

The moment the door closes, she's up to explore.

It's her first time in his space - his personal place, full of his belongings and memories. She wants to make the most out of the couple of minutes she's got ahead.

The asylum had been clinically empty - white from floor to ceiling, devoid of anything even remotely personal, perfect for conditioning. Their rooms - cells, really - had been dreadfully similar. Boring.

And then Elliot's place, which whilst sort of welcoming (in a weird, alien-believer way) and where they had _connected_ on a much deeper level - in every sense of the word - hadn't been theirs. 

This bedroom of his is so tidy. 

The hastily thrown back duvet cover seems to be the only thing out of place. That, and the numerous holes puncturing the ceiling. Knife training, she guesses.

Unsurprisingly, she sees blades everywhere. Small, large, single- or double-edged metal, glinting discreetly from every corner of the room. A couple knives on the desk, on shelves, one peeking under the pillow, a honing rod for sharpening half hidden under some papers - no doubt she's in Diego's room.

She remembers how he would often rub his fingers together at Holbrook, now realising he was clearly missing the comforting weight of steel in his hands.

She knows how to expertly use various types of weapons - from blades to guns to technological marvels of destruction. Her mother made sure of that. But Lila's always preferred fighting hand to hand - unsettling her enemies who think that just because she's a girl, and she's tiny, she'll be an easy fight. She gets so much joy at seeing the despair shine in their eyes after getting their asses handed to them.

Now that she's experienced some of Diego's power though, she understands the appeal of knives - their elegance, maniability and quick efficiency.

Throwing a knife looks some much cooler than firing a gun, anyway.

Smiling, she spots a set of katanas displayed on one of the walls, a small post-it paper sticking against the base. She can spot a tiny crudely drawn umbrella underneath. Gift from his siblings, she guesses.

There are nods to them here and there - small trinkets she's fairly sure don't belong to Diego. The most obvious is a central picture of the 6 of them showcased in the middle of the top shelf, perfectly lined to her eyesight.

His two sisters grinning widely on each side - Allison perhaps a little less brightly.

The big guy trying to fit his massive frame behind them with an awkward smile.

Klaus' magnetic yet mysterious expression, amusement dancing in his eyes, yet always seeming far away.

Diego himself, caught mid-laughter whilst looking fondly over his siblings.

And Five's asshole smirk, sitting in the middle, staring right at her. Always a little shit no matter the era.

All of them sporting those ridiculous matching umbrella tattoos.

From what she knows about the Hargreeves' history, the picture must be pretty recent. Taken at a bowling alley, she presumes from the background. 

A perfect snapshot of a reunited family enjoying a casual outing together.

How _lovely_.

She's not jealous (she's not).

Their seventh brother's absence seems glaring, however. 

Feeling uneasy, she looks away from the desk and the shelves. Maybe she shouldn't be snooping in his possessions - but everything is in full view, she's not actively opening drawers or anything, she reasons.

No posters on the walls. Out of curiosity, she thinks _screw it_ and quickly opens the doors of his wardrobe. And then promptly laughs at the massive amount of black in there. Some things will never change.

Besides, they match that way.

He needs a bit more colour in his closet, she reckons. The 1960s outfits were far more fun.

Maybe, maybe, if things turn out the way she hopes they will, she’ll get a chance to take him shopping. Convince him to try out a neon pink shirt, make him buy some tight washed out jeans that will definitely compliment his toned figure, deck him into a killer outfit that she will love to parade him with, hell, even shell out for some kinky underwear.

That kind of thing.

Lost in thoughts, she quietly closes the wardrobe doors. Something catches her eye on his nightstand. 

Besides a shabby-looking bedside lamp lays the beaded bracelet she thought she lost. 

The one he made during their mandatory “creative quiet time” back at Holbrook, the one she stole and wore proudly every day (“ _a trophy from a job well-executed_ ”, she’d told her mother, lying knowingly through her teeth. A physical link to the man she loves that left her feeling like a teenage girl with a crush, in reality).

The same bracelet she developed a habit of twisting every time she was nervous, or upset, or missing him - until she realised she no longer had it, the second day after arriving in her seaside cottage of doom and gloom.

(If she cries twice as hard when she finds it missing while automatically trying to reach for it, she doesn’t let on.)

But it’s here - and on his bedside, no less. Which means it must have fallen during the fight at the farm, and Diego must have caught it. And kept it. 

_Does he wear it every day, like she used to?_

_Does it mean he might still have feelings for her?_

Or does he keep it as a reminder of the giant Lila-shaped mistake he made decades ago? 

Hope blooms inside her chest - she can’t help it. Fuck negativity for once - she chooses to believe this is a sign he still cares for her.

And they might actually still have a shot at happiness. Together.

Suddenly she can’t wait for him to get back upstairs.

*******  
  
  
  


“Hey, my arms are full, can you open the door?” She hears his muffled voice coming from the hallway.

Lila takes a deep breath - _this is all gonna be okay, you’re gonna be honest about your feelings, don’t be afraid, don’t ruin it_ \- and opens the door.

He’s carrying a tray with little space available on it.

“Did you ransack your kitchen? Are your siblings gonna come and beat your arse for stealing everything?” She smirks, clearing the way so he can enter the room and carefully place the tray on the bed. 

“Well I didn’t know what you felt like having, so I got a bit of everything,” he shrugs. “There’s coffee - still black with one sugar, right? - and eggs, some toast, a bit of yoghurt. I snagged a couple of Luther’s cookies - they’re probably the most palatable thing he bakes, but be careful, there might be some weird stuff in it. His cooking is sometimes too… adventurous.”

She sits across from him, the tray in between them, one leg bent on the bed and the other staying firmly on the floor - forever ready to bolt. She makes sure she doesn’t knock any of the food or drinks down, and gives him a frank smile “Thanks for breakfast, Diego.”

“It’s not much, but it sure beats Holbrook’s lunch jellos, I think,” he says as he starts grabbing a piece of toast.

They make small talk as they eat, chatting about how he’s finding this new version of 2019, the complicated calculations she had to take with the briefcase to get there - Five would _love_ to pick her brains about it, despite their mutual hatred, her various trips around the world and time, how he’s settling with his siblings.

Both seem to carefully steer clear of any heavy topic, making idle chatter as they munch on their foods - luckily, the cookies are fairly normal, for once. 

“And then, the Italian nonna took pity on poor, alone, penniless me and she came with her arms full of every type of cheese and pasta she seemed to have in her kitchen. She tried to open the briefcase at first to put them in, but I screamed no so loud - I mean, universally understandable, right - and she dropped it, and I thought it died on impact. So that’s how I got stuck in Tuscany for a month, while the briefcase reset itself,” she laughs quietly.

“It could have been worse though! I must have eaten my weight in gelato, trying to convince myself I was living the dolce vita, and not wandering aimlessly avoiding my problems,” she says as she finishes the last of her coffee.

Diego also puts his mug down and peers at her with curiosity.

“All those places seem incredible, from what you’re telling me. So what made you stop travelling?”

She hesitates, looking away. “Well, there was one thought that kept cycling through my mind in each new setting - for each sunset, for every wonder I was able to see…”

Her heart beats so erratically through her chest, it feels like it’s gonna burst out of her. 

This is where she comes clean. No going back now. She’s come all this way just for this. 

For him.

“All those amazing places, and yet I kept thinking how much I wished you were there with me to experience it all."

His eyes widen, clearly surprised.

“Lila, you’re the one who left," he says with an accusatory glare.

“I know, I know, and I really needed that time alone, I did! Just to deal with everything that happened and process my mother’s death and betrayal,” she pauses, then cautiously adds “but it didn’t stop me from missing you.”

“Lila, you can’t say things like that after leading me to believe I would never see you again. Do you even know what I went through since you left?” he snaps, perhaps a little too harshly, a little too quickly.

They’re interrupted by a loud banging on his door.

“Yoooohooo, Diegoooo” a voice singsongs from behind his wall. “I know you’re here! Listen, open up, I need to borrow a black jacket to fit with Allison’s leather skirt. Don’t tell her I borrowed it, by the way. And let’s be real, I wouldn’t fit in Luther or Fivey’s clothes. Help!”

Klaus. Shit.

Privately, Lila’s sort of glad for the disruption. It leaves her with a reprieve to mull over what to say next - she needs to choose the right words, otherwise she has a feeling Diego might lash out at her. 

Maybe it’s deserved.

“Klaus, now’s not a good time, please,” Diego bellows to his brother.

“Wait, it sounded like you’re not alone in there!” Klaus shouts back.

Diego throws a panicked look her way. 

“Do you have a girl with you?” Klaus continues excitedly. “Mein Gott! Is it your hot detective lady friend? Are you _finally_ rekindling the flame?”

  
  


And that’s the exact moment Lila feels her heart shatter.

A clean break in two distinct pieces, the magnitude of which is leaving her breathless.

Of course he’s moved on.

Of course she doesn’t mean anything to him.

How foolish she was to think their little tryst of a couple weeks would matter in the long run.

He must have dozens of women - and men too, probably - interested in him. A plethora of people just as hot, readily available, and not plagued by an existential crisis.

Rekindling though, that indicates a past connection.

An ex-girlfriend? 

Someone Diego loves enough to seek out even in this alternate reality. Someone important enough that his siblings know about her.

Suddenly she wants to make a run for it - grab the briefcase and leave, _far_ , far from here, just like she did from the barn. Her instincts are screaming at her to get out while she’s still semi-functional, before she breakdowns in front of him.

She feels slapped in the face by the depth of her stupidity and naivety. 

She lied to him, over and over again, drugged and kidnapped him, and then tried to murder his entire family under his eyes. Of course he doesn’t want her. He was angry at first, but now will come indifference - which is worse somehow. This morning, being there, he’s just humouring her - it’s a miracle he’s being so civil, actually. 

She keeps picturing him lovingly looking at a faceless woman, smiling at her, taking her on dates, dancing with her. Sharing his meals, his bed with her. A happy and healthy relationship, not based on lies and abduction. 

Why did she ever think she stood a chance of a future together.

A loud yell next to her slaps her back to reality.

“Shut up Klaus! I don’t have time for this!”

“Alright, jeeze, don’t get your tighty-whities in a twist, brother, it was just a question… Can you still pick me up after the NA meeting downtown tonight? You know, since I can’t be left alone” his sibling whines behind the door.

“You know I’ll be there, ok. See you then, now please _leave!_ ” he mutters harshly.

She can hear loud footsteps retreating from his bedroom entrance. Diego nervously passes a hand through his hair and turns to face her “Sorry about that. Can’t ever escape my family.”

Only then does he notice how pale and quiet she’s become.

She can't even look at him. If she does, she might just break entirely and start sobbing - and she will _not_.

Instead, she opts for staring at the floor while trying to tune him out entirely.

_Deep breaths, Lila, stop shaking for fuck's sake. You're pathetic. Pull yourself together._

Change of plans. She's getting out of here as soon as it is politely possible. 

Where to? Who knows.

Very far.

Just so she can mend her broken heart once again.

Diego's such a caring, fundamentally good person. He deserves better than a lying lunatic with a chip on her shoulder and deep-seated mommy issues.

_Fake a smile, remain cordial, don't even think about mentioning how you feel, and then get the hell out._

She's so absorbed in elaborating her strategy that she doesn't hear him approaching until she feels a light touch under her chin.

His warm fingers tilt her head towards him, reminiscent of a day long gone, right before they had shared a dance at the Mexican consulate.

"Hey Lila, where did you go?" He asks, looking concerned.

She takes a couple breaths before answering, nearly in a whisper "Do you - are you seeing someone?"

He breaks away from her.

"Diego… should I leave?" She falters.

Her heart is in her throat. She's never felt this stupid, this insecure in her entire life.

He keeps staring at her as he squats down by his bedside, in front of her, grabbing her hands once again.

"Please don't. I really don't want you to leave again. _I've just got you back_." He growls in a low voice, sending deep shivers down her spine.

"But Klaus was right? There's a woman in your life?" She continues.

"There used to be. Patch and I… it's a long story. We had an on/off thing going on for many years until she, well, she was murdered. By Hazel and Chacha - I know you know them. While saving Klaus from them, too, so I do feel responsible. If I hadn't arrived too late… It took me a long time to accept her death," he sighs. "And especially knowing she's alive in this timeline, that wasn't easy. But I've made my peace with it, I won't bother her in this reality. This Eudora has never met me. She deserves to be kept away from the Hargreeves madness. There's no lingering feelings, if that's what you're asking."

Selfishly, she can't help but be reassured by his words.

"I'm so sorry Diego, I had no idea."

"Yeah, there was enough family-related trauma to discuss during the group therapy sessions, without adding this on top." 

"Thanks for telling me, you didn't have to. Besides, I know you have every right to be angry with me right now," she trails off, breaking away from his scrutinizing eyes.

He stands up, immediately scowling, as if suddenly remembering everything that went down between them.

“You know, you didn’t have to drug and kidnap me, right? I would have followed you if you’d asked.”

She raises an eyebrow disbelievingly “Really? ‘Cause I don’t think you would have.”

“Well, I mean at least I would have let you explain yourself. Perhaps even followed you, knowing what you were facing. But I was running out of time to save my sister and also, _the whole world from the apocalypse_ , need I remind you,” he retorts. “And you _drugged_ me, Lila!”

She has the presence of mind to look sheepish. “I really am sorry about that, I promise. This kind of method is all I’ve ever known. Hit and act first, explain later. It’s always worked in my favour before.”

She hesitates before admitting “I never used to care about what happened to my marks, never took any time to consider what they might think, how they might feel… until you. You took me by surprise in many ways, Diego.”

He lets out a loud exhale and joins her again on the bed, but this time there’s no stiffness between them. 

“How are you able to make me so angry and then make it melt away in a matter of seconds, uh? You’re maddening, Lila, you know that?” he says as he sits next to her.

Her lips rise in a discreet smile. Maybe not everything is lost.

“I mean it. You were just a mission at first, the easiest of the Hargreeves to target - I’m not gonna lie to placate you, you know it’s true. I was tasked with getting closer to your clan, to your annoying brother so I could figure out his whereabouts. The Commission provided me with an entire file detailing the big moments of your life, your weaknesses, your strengths. Before coming to the asylum, I had an entire strategy focused on how to approach you based on what I knew,” she acknowledges without shame or remorse.

So she knew about him beforehand.

“But then I met you, Diego, and you completely took me aback. Such a tough guy on the outside, rugged, weathered by life, obviously dangerous even without knives, yet so _gentle_ with me. You could be sarcastic all you wanted, but you were so caring to me from the very beginning.”

She pokes him below the shoulder with a wicked grin “A real marshmallow on the inside!”

“You were loud and weird from the get-go, how could I not notice you,” he says mockingly. “And if you remember correctly, you and I were the only two brown people in this godforsaken place. In the 1960s, no less. We had to stick together! I felt like I had to protect you from any crazy racist people, and you know some of them were looking for excuses to beat the shit out of us for that reason alone. But you clearly didn’t need any help or protection.”

“How chivalrous of you,” she teases him as she toes off her shoes to sit further against the wall bordering his bed, bending her legs.

If he squints, the situation could feel almost domestic. The girl of his dreams, cracking jokes on his bed, sharing breakfast and relaxing together. 

Isn’t it what he’s been dreaming of for months? Hoping for moments like this again, while praying she wasn’t lying dead in a ditch somewhere, or just actively avoiding him. 

As if the past few months just disappeared with a smile. 

He turns somber again “Why did you stay away for so long? It was driving me mad imagining you going through all of this on your own, Lila. Remember how I’ve lived through the exact same thing before? Didn’t you think I could have helped you with it? You know I would have been there every step of the way.”

One moment they seem fine, and the next everything is tense again. She feels like he’s about to throw her out of his place any minute.

But she did come all this way to see him, and explain, and maybe attempt something new.

Before coming, Lila had been well aware that the explanation part was not going to be easy. Moody and surly that he was, he was certainly not going to welcome her with open arms and proclaim everything’s magically forgiven.

She has some apologising to do first.

“I needed to go through this shitstorm on my own, Diego. Do some soul searching, undo years of manipulation to allow me to see things differently. Realise I’d been behaving horribly, towards your siblings but mostly towards you. Digest the truth about my history, and my real family, and deal with all these conflicting emotions I still feel towards my mother.”

And he knows that’s the crux of the problem.

”To this day, I still… I miss her somehow. Yes, she ruined my life and modelled me after a weapon, but she also raised me, fed me and clothed me, read me bedtime stories, and took me to school every morning. She would also shoot at me during training and not allow me back home until the mark was dead and the mission over.”

She stops herself, struggling to go on “But most nights, I just dream of her body cribbled with bullets, gushing blood out on the farm floor, and I wake up screaming.”

His eyes are boring into hers. She can feel the warmth radiating from his side, where they sit almost shoulder to shoulder against his wall. If she reaches out, she’s pretty sure she could grab his hand again.

“And I know you went through that too. But you did it alone, all of your siblings did as well, and somehow you came out of that stronger and more independent. I needed it too.”

She’s too nervous to say what follows while looking at him - so tentatively, slowly, she lays her head on his shoulder. She can feel his body relax subsequently to better accommodate her.

“But don’t you think for a second I didn’t consider going back to you every day that I spent alone.”

“Did you really?” he says, his voice a tiny bit higher than usual. Disbelief and a dash of hope colour his words.

“I told you I missed you already, didn’t I? Obviously I was dying to see you again. I knew without a doubt you would have helped if I asked. But as I said, I needed to do it alone and… also I didn’t think you’d want to see me,” she says hesitantly. “I did try to murder you and your entire family the last time we met, so I assumed I wouldn’t be ranking very high on your list of favourite people.”

“The situation’s complicated, for sure, and I’m not gonna pretend I would have been over it in a flash - or that my siblings won’t try to kill you the minute they see you again. But Lila, you’ve got to know how much you mean to me, right? I wanted to be there for you.” 

If she’d look up in this moment, she would see sincerity shining in his eyes. And fierce tenderness.

“I knew I had to become a better person first, before I came looking for you. Just so I could feel a tiny bit worthy of you,” she mumbles as she buries her nose into his neck, inhaling deeply the scent of clean laundry and faint leather that she’s missed so much.

He slides one arm around her shoulders, dragging her closer, wanting so badly to erase her pain and insecurities.

“Don’t go thinking that, Lila, there’s no worthy anything. Do it for yourself, don’t do it for me, or your mother, or anyone else. There’s you, and me, and the shit we went through. And the truth is that my life is just better with you in it,” he whispers, nuzzling his face against her hair.

In return, she slips her right arm across his stomach, settling in for a side hug.

“I grabbed the briefcase on the day I realised I could think about my past without feeling murderous rage or debilitating sadness. It took me a year, but I had grown enough, and taken a step back from everything, and I couldn’t stop thinking I wanted more out of life. Therefore, in my mind, I had finally earned my right to join you. I didn’t think I should, before that. It was for the best really, for both of us.”

Lila snuggles deeper into his embrace, relishing their closeness, and finally feeling like she’s where she belongs.

“Now it’s my turn to apologise to you too, Lila,” he adds, seeking out a glimpse of her face.

“What for?”

“For disappearing on you at the Commission, when you had asked me specifically to make it work. And knowing full well how you respond to being abandoned. I should have left a note or a clue, at least,” he says bashfully.

She extricates herself from his arms - to both of their regret - and asks with incredulity “Wait, I’m the one who kidnapped you and forced you in this situation and you’re actually _apologising_ for leaving without a word? Are you for real? Or are you that desperate to get in my pants?”

He scowls at her words, which she would find hilarious if she wasn’t a tiny bit afraid that the conversation was going to take a turn for the worse - again.

“So much for wanting to be honest during this heart to heart too, Lila.”

“Alright, I’m sorry for asking,” she says with a laugh, and then adds cheekily as an afterthought “does this mean you _don’t_ want in my pants?”

“God, you’re insufferable, you know that?” he retorts.

 _But that’s why you love me_ , she almost answers before thinking better of it. 

It’s too early for that. And she might not deal well with rejection at this point.

They’ve been doing good so far.

Sitting on her knees, her arms on either side of his legs, she fiddles with the comforter nervously as he looks on.

“I promise you, from now on, no more lies. You can ask me whatever you want Diego, I won’t keep anything from you, I swear,” she declares emphatically.

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Alright. So did you ever love me? Or was it just the mission?”

Straight to the point.

The abruptness of the question leaves her reeling. But she promised the truth - she’s got to deliver.

“The mission was blown to pieces the moment I met you, Diego.” 

She seeks his gaze and adds with determination “And to answer your question… I still do.”

The moment she finishes her sentence, he surges towards her, fusing his lips to hers with intensity. His hands cup her face, drawing her closer while she instinctively leans into him. Her arms glide around his neck, erasing any space between them, melting into him as close as it is humanly possible.

She’s missed this, his touch, his lips, _him_ , so badly she can’t describe it. 

She’s hanging onto him like a lifeline, feeling as if she were finally resurfacing and taking a deep breath after struggling underwater for so long.

His hands turn urgent, sliding across her back, under her sweater, seeking proximity, close, _so close, never close enough_. Her fingers make their way back to his hair, tugging at the strands, dragging him back to her mouth, over and over again. 

In between kisses, she can hear him faintly whispering “I love you, I love you, I love you”, sending shivers down her spine. Any lingering doubts she might have had about his feelings disappear with each repetition as she loses herself in his arms.

Within seconds, she’s climbing in his lap, ready to tear off her clothes - and his - without breaking contact for a single moment.

Diego groans as she settles against him, and she thinks she’s never heard a more delicious noise. Her kisses turn lazy as she takes to biting his lower lip gently. He growls in response, making her shudder.

This man, and his ability to render her insane. 

_What is she going to do with him?_

His hand stops her from ripping her top off, forcing her to part reluctantly. She throws him a questioning look.

His eyes turn pleading.

“Lila… Before we go any further, I need to know that you’re staying. For good. I will not survive you leaving me again.”

She wants to cradle his face - reassure this beautiful man that she loves so intensely, quash the fear in his gaze - say _yes, I will, I can’t bear to be away from you either_.

Her answer is more measured. “Diego, I have no one left in this timeline or the other. No one but you. The reality is that I experienced what life is like without you, _and I don’t want it_.”

His thumb softly strokes her cheek, prompting her to close her eyes.

“I meant what I said back at the barn, you know. The offer still stands to join this family. My family.” 

“I’m an orphan - twice over actually. And your brothers and sisters will probably not welcome me with open arms -”

“- Screw them. They won’t get a choice.”

“But if you’ll have me, I’ll stay with you. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

His smile is so wide, so beautiful. She can’t help but throw herself in his arms once again, diving straight for his lips.

With him she feels like she can take on anything the world will throw at her - alternate realities, apocalypses, even asshole siblings she will have to learn to live with.

His fingers slowly peeling away her jumper bring her back to reality, and to more pressing matters. 

She grins.

*******

_He’s sat at one of those shitty plastic tables peppering the “break room”, finally feeling more awake as the drugs slowly leave his body. They dosed him during the ride on his way to the asylum, and he’s still reeling from the effects almost two days later._

_His outfit is so stupid. He hates wearing white, it’s too noticeable. His shoes are too small, and definitely not new. He would be blending in in this ensemble, if not for the colour of his skin, which he realises is definitely darker than the rest of the patients._

_He needs to find a way to escape this hellhole. As far as he knows, he’s landed here on his own - he can’t count on his siblings to come rescue him._

_He shudders to think what happened to them. And even if, by some miracle, they made it unscathed to 1963, they have no way of knowing where he is._

_His time spent elaborating a plan to steal a knife - or a fork, or a spoon, any cutlery actually - from the canteen gets interrupted by a commotion at the entrance of the room._

_Two of the orderlies are bringing in a tiny woman with jet black hair and bleached tips, dark eyes, a choppy fringe she seems to have cut herself, and a pack of cigarettes in each hand. Fully outfitted in white as well._

_She’s pretty, in an unhinged way._

_The girl is cackling gleefully as they drag her by the forearms, completely unbothered by her current situation._

_He can smell the crazy from here._

_Her eyes lock in with his as she stops in the middle of the area._

_“Alright, Pitts. The nurse will come bring you your meds in a bit. In the meantime, behave.”_

_As the orderlies leave, the girl makes her way to his table, loudly pulling the chair right next to his despite having all the other seats available._

_“Well hello there, tall and broody. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. I’m Lila. What you in for?”_

_He feels like he shouldn’t blush. The situation could not be any weirder._

_He considers using a fake name, and then decides against it. The nurses know his real name anyway - no point in hiding. Besides, he thinks he could probably tell this girl anything - either she wouldn’t believe him, or no one would take her seriously anyway._

_Honesty it is._

_“Diego. They tried to stop me from killing the guy who’s gonna shoot the president in a couple months. But I’m gonna make it out of here and slice up that motherfucker soon. You?”_

_“My neighbour called them on me after I tried to set her doormat on fire. That old bitch deserved it, really,” she smiles wickedly._

_She gives him a look, and then continues, half whispering in a conspiratorial tone._

_“So you think you know someone who’s gonna kill the president, uh? What makes you so sure of that?”_

_“Well, you might not believe me, but I’m from the future. I’ve seen it happen - in my time, every kid in the country knows what happened to JFK. And I just know I was brought back here to save him.”_

_“Oh, this is amazing,” she says as she claps her hands, getting a few nasty looks from the people around them._

_“Well Diego, you and I are gonna have so much fun.”_

*******

It’s later. He’s in his bed, half covered by a sheet, naked as the day he was born.

A weight shifts against his side, snuggling closer to the crook of his neck.

Lila.

She’s still here. She promised.

They fell asleep together after finally, _finally_ reuniting. Bubbles of joy are bursting inside his chest.

As his sight becomes less fuzzy from waking up, he notices that the hand resting on his chest is sporting the beaded bracelet he last saw on his bedside table. He hadn’t even realised she had stolen it from him.

He’s pleased to see it back where it belongs.

A quick look at the alarm clock indicates that it’s early afternoon. There’s no work today and he’s still got a few hours before needing to pick up Klaus, and Vanya, and then announcing to his siblings that they’re gonna have a new roommate, whether they like it or not.

Somehow, he knows the conversation will not go smoothly.

There might even be some murder attempts.

But for now, he’s allowed more time to luxuriate in bed with Lila, blissfully enjoying the pleasure of being in her arms and reveling in her presence.

He closes his eyes and curls up against the woman he loves.

Outside, it starts raining.

**Author's Note:**

> Lila encountering other versions of Diego made me want to write a "soulmates in every universe" AU that would allow me to play with many different styles and settings and give in to many plot bunnies. It wouldn't have to be necessarily linked to this fic.
> 
> Would anyone be interested in reading it?


End file.
